In the town where I live is a tiny village. It is the original settlement aptly named Old Town. Festivals are held every year for various holidays and people park their cars to walk the streets and browse the tiny shops located there.
One of these shops sells hats. Nothing but hats. Every kind you can imagine and some you can’t. I believe the store owner may hand make some of them herself. It is a tradition that I stop in to try on a few dozen every year.
I never buy one.
There are several reasons but the main one is simply…I cannot choose. They all look good, they all fit, and I love them all. It’s amazing the transformation that a hat can make. But you see…I already wear so many.
I am a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a lover, an outstanding employee (by my own standards), and a writer. My hats change constantly and to choose just one would be a commitment that I cannot make.
So until I am able to purchase one of every kind, I will be content on trying them all one for a few moments…and dodging the sales lady who apparently does not like customers who never buy.